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Tag Archives: Ska

Breathless and basking in a ska shaped incitement which never tires however it comes, we eagerly suggest checking out the new single from UK rockers Grassroutes. Drawing on the ska/ indie fusion which goes to good use by numerous bands, the Leamington Spa quintet give it their own unique flavouring and rampancy to leave ears excited and knees buckling under the weight of the enthusiasm it inspires. Subliminal is a devilment, an insatiable persuasion which if you have a penchant for ska and the likes of Madness, The Vox Dolomites , and The Talks all rolled up into one new adventure, the closest we can come up with to describe their sound, then Grassroutes is for you.

There is plenty more to the Grassroutes sound to that suggested above of course, one additional spicing maybe coming from the Jamaican descent of vocalist/rhythm guitarist Jay Hall and certainly through his reggae inspirations. Linking up with lead guitarist Ben Knight, a long time school friend, the pair started indie rock band The Royal Players. It was the seed and gateway to the emergence of Grassroutes, with line-up changes over the years subsequently bringing bassist Justin Bygrave, keyboardist/guitarist Levi Washington, and drummer Jimmy Barnwell into the band’s fold. Year and a half on from its start, the band is still earning a potent reputation for their live performances and now working on their debut album, to which Subliminal is a teaser already brewing up impatient anticipation in some quarters.

The first breath of the song brings an earthy bassline and charming melodies cast by guitars and keys. It is a catchy entrance enhanced further by the slightly gravelly tones of Hall and an increasingly stronger swing to the song which infects bass, riffs, and keys alike with every second. An anthemic chorus with full band vocal participation sparks another wave of rich pleasure; its punk lined revelry flirted with by great Mike Barson like mischievous and infectious keys. It all combines for slavery of feet and emotions. A bustling riot and temptation of sound is never an offering to turn away, but especially in a track like this where from its infectious and relatively restrained moments, it ignites with increasing virulence on its way to an exhilarating climax.

Listening to Subliminal again and again, a whisper of King Prawn shows itself within the single, a scent which can only ever be a good thing at any time though again like all colouring it only adds to a proposition which is solely Grassroutes. The single is primed to set the year alight, to bring the summer in early though thoughts and emotions are left with just one thing to say…bring on the album.

There are treats, there are triumphs, and there is undiluted devilry, and in the case of Global Citizen there are irrepressible riots of combining all three. The album comes from Canadian rockers The Cardboard Crowns, a band creating a mischievous maelstrom of adventure from the raw tenacity of punk, the majestic swagger of ska, and the sultry charm of reggae, not forgetting a very healthy dose of pop. Formed in 2009, the band has been a relative secret outside of their home borders but it is easy with a little bit of luck to see that changing thanks to the thrilling stomp of Global Citizen.

Hailing from Aylmer, Quebec and now Ottawa based, The Cardboard Crowns’ seeds begin in high school with Joel “Rat” Kuehn (vocals/guitar), David “Tokyo” Speirs (drums), and Matthew “Googles” Megannety (lead guitar), the first two already strong friends before meeting the third in that place of learning. They formed a trio of garage bands, The Madd Fizz, The Fog Pilots, and The Rocket-Propelled Space-Fish along the way of their musical journey, potent steps which have laid the seeds for what they offer today. It was with the link-up with bassist Franks “Mystery Skunk” Cuningham around five years ago though that the spark for Cardboard Crowns was ignited, and from that point it has been full steam ahead for the band and its insatiable revelry.

It does not take long to realise the eclectic and inventive expanse of sound and imagination which fuels the album, the first three songs enough to reveal the wonderfully unpredictable and infectious variety at play. Opener Pulling Teeth sets things off, its opening and immediately engaging acoustic caress and alluring vocals folk like with a summery breeze to their relaxed temptation. It is just the gentle coaxing to bigger and bolder things though, energy building towards a rampant stride of punchy rhythms and tangy grooves driven by equally tenacious vocals from Kuehn and band. The song reminds of British band Knots, its emerging instinctive and anthemic stomp inescapable flirtation for feet and passions. The track is exceptional, fiery blazes of raw guitar only adding to the drama and power of the brilliant encounter.

Its might is soon backed up as the album’s title track and the following Hats Off unveil their distinctive and diverse designs. The first of the two strolls in on a smiling stride of reggae seeded riffs and a rhythmic swing which soon has body and imagination swaying in unison. There is a just as vibrant pop punk enterprise to the song, bands like Smashmouth and Reel Big Fish coming to mind as it swerves and entices with vivacious melodies and bubbly chords, though the track ultimately evolves a unique identity. It’s smiling gait and devilry is matched by its successor, ska bred stabs igniting ears within seconds as a punkish air sets in motion another contagious persuasion. The song though not flawless, the band shouts not working for personal tastes, manages to smoulder and bounce simultaneously, like an exotic temptress with seductive curves and voracious appetite.

Sun And The Stars winds around ears next; its tone equipped with a country twang aligned to smoky keys and Southern kissed sonic flaming. Again sound and vocals provides a seriously catchy and excitable devilry and even though it lacks the final persuasive spark which ignited its predecessors, the track leaves appetite hungrier and satisfaction fuller. It is a level of pleasure straight away thrust to new levels by the outstanding Shut My Mouth, another incendiary romp of piercing hooks and devilish enterprise allowing pop punk and ska to collude in a virulently infectious rascality which might even have the power to bring the feet of the lifeless to dance.

The thrilling adventures and diversity just keeps coming as Olé brings its Latin ska tempting to tease and excite ears and imagination. The cosmopolitan shuffle is a festival of swarthy rhythms and rosy faced melodies, a lively footed canter merging the rebellious charm of Mano Negra with the seductive zeal of Les Négresses Vertes. At the song’s end its gentle hug allows a breather to be taken before the rugged brilliance of Your Son has body and emotions leaping again. Adding new causticity to vocals and chords, the track switches its roars and croons for the album’s most ferociously captivating offering. Pop and punk collide, virtually brawling throughout as they breed some of the sharpest appetising hooks and rhythmic provocation you are likely to devour this year.

The release is brought to an end by firstly the seriously magnetic Bounty On His Head, a part punk and part folk romp, and lastly through the carnival-esque tempting of Generations. The final song is a mix of gypsy punk and folk vaudeville, like a mix of Tankus The Henge and Flogging Molly, and a sensational end to one scintillating tapestry of sound and invention.

It is hard to imagine The Cardboard Crowns remaining a relatively unknown proposition once Global Citizen works its alchemy around the world. The album offering music just as it should be; imaginative, passionate, and pure fun.

You may have already found your feel good encounter of 2014 but it is never a bad thing to keep looking right up to the closing days, especially when as winter opens its eyes you get a treat as irresistible as Commoners, Peers, Drunks and Thieves, the new album from UK ska rockers The Talks. Bringing eleven tracks to infest feet, the body, and the imagination, the release is a stomp of addictive revelry which cannot fail to put a smile on the face and emotions.

Since the release of their debut single Picture This in 2008, The Talks have been on a steady climb with the past couple of years seeing a fevered acceleration of attention for their fusion of ska, punk, reggae, and two-tone. First album Live Now Pay Later! in 2012 awoke a fresh spotlight on the Hull quartet which last year’s Westsinister E.P and singles Can Stand The Rain, which featured Neville Staple from The Specials, and Friday Night swiftly pushed to new levels. Alongside the releases, the band’s live presence has been just as dynamic in garnering acclaim and luring the passions, the foursome of Patrick Pretorius (vocals/guitars/sax), Jody Moore (vocals/guitars/keys), Iain Allen (bass), and Richard Lovelock (drums) sharing stages with the likes of Madness, The Specials, Rancid, The Beat, and The King Blues, as well as playing festivals such as This Is Ska, Mighty Sounds, and Rebellion over time. The previous EP was a highly anticipated encounter with Commoners, Peers, Drunks and Thieves finding itself more eagerly awaited, and again the band has surpassed hopes and expectation with their contagious exploits.

The band’s sound lies somewhere between the provocative roars of The Vox Dolomites, the punk causticity of The Members, the melodic reggae and ska charms of By The Rivers and The Beat respectively, and the virulent devilment of The Jellycats. It is a proposition though which whilst embracing familiar essences develops its own unique devilry as swiftly shown with album opener Don’t Look Behind You. The initial warm embrace of keys has ears and thoughts engaged immediately, especially as riffs chop and rhythms start leaping as keys open up a new inventive flirtation whilst the pulses and strokes of the song work on the passions. Loaded with bait feet cannot resist, the song spreads its seduction further with the mischief of vocals and bass alongside the jagged majesty of guitar stabs, hooks, and beats.

The brilliant start is emulated instantly by recent single Radio, an insatiable two tone fuelled escapade with the delicious whiff of The Selector to it. Within moments its chorus is leading the anthemic stroll, the song’s swagger as virulent as the brass flames and exotic keys colouring it. There is a punkish air to the vocals which again reminds of The Members whilst the punchy rhythms consume the vivacious dance of the encounter like an epidemic. The track is aural addiction, a breath-taking protagonist of body and emotions leaving a tall order for the following Tear Us Apart to match up to. With sultry keys and warm harmonies its first breath, the song is soon stirring up ears and imagination with its reggae bred enterprise and melodic summer. It mesmerises with its caressing canter of sound, reminding of fellow Brits Shanty as it floats and immerses the senses in its mouth-watering adventure.

Both Fire and Ceasefire keep the thrills ablaze, the first a muscular slab of ska provocation with bulky bass lines and feisty riffs pouncing on ears with antagonistic intensity and infectious rigour. The track has its nostrils flaring from the first second but the increasingly impressive vocal melodies and dramatic brass hues tempers the roar for another riveting big boned incitement; think King Prawn meets Lazy Habits and you are somewhere near the potency of the song. Its successor which features Jonny ‘Itch’ Fox of The Kings Blues, is an immediate blur of sonic drama and rhythmic provocation, a great dirty baseline aligned to agitated beats the frame for combative vocals and smouldering melodies. Teasing with dub enterprise over a ska crafted canvas, the track bounces with confrontation and climatic resourcefulness, every twist a striking reward for ears and a spark for thoughts to match the lyrical impact.

The gentle warmth and catchy romance of Light Up replaces the previous exhilarating tension of its predecessor, the swaying proposition a melody rich call with keys and harmonies embracing another irrepressible earthy bass temptation. Its masterful charm and joy is followed by the pop punk infused All in a Day, the band regaling the album with yet another thrilling slice of diverse and creative magnetism. A mix of Less Than Jake and Reel Big Fish but unique again, the song bounds along with a recognisable air around a creative humidity which fires up into an irresistible persuasion, especially once the outstanding escape of deranged keys occurs.

It is a track, as all to be fair, which feet and voice of the listener are unlikely to resist, a lure across the album which is no more inescapable as in the brilliant Hacks. New wave soaked pop punk meets the spicy flirtation of Bad Manners, the track is an ingenious enslavement of ears and passions based on a ridiculously captivating rhythmic enticing and spicy guitar tempting, all matched in expression and allurement by the punchy vocals. The song tells you all you need to know about The Talks, their inflamed imagination and diverse sound, it all encapsulated in two minutes of instinctively seductive alchemy.

The equally thrilling Tune In steps up next to seize the passions, its opening jangle of chords the lead into a melodic coaxing straight out of the Martha and The Muffins songbook ,which in turn shares its space with swipes of feisty rock and ska sculpted endeavour. As punk as it is ska and adrenaline fuelled rock pop, the song stalks ears with a predacious ingenuity before making way for the smoky presence of Sam, reggae and indie rock embracing in a humid embrace, which in turn leaves for final track Alright with Me to close things up. The last song has blues flair to its keys and a choppy texture to the guitar enterprise shaping the expressive musical narrative, a transfixing croon to bring the album to a fine end and show yet more of the variety and creative depths of The Talks.

It is impossible to listen to Commoners, Peers, Drunks and Thieves just once in one sitting, and certain tracks many more times on top. As stated at the start it is a feel good album but more than that, it is a release from a band to which invention and uncompromising adventure is as instinctive as the rapturous infectious sounds they seem to have stockpiled up inside them.

British punk has been at a feisty high for a couple of years now and just gets more potent which each emerging band and release. At the heart and criminally not getting the attention deserved is The Vox Dolomites, a quartet which turns the seeds of punk rock and ska into lyrically and musically gripping dramas. Their songs and EPs have proven the band has an instinctive knack at inciting feet and thoughts with energy and skill. Just recently the Stockport based band released their self-titled debut album, a release which surely will finally draw the keenest spotlight upon their presence.

Formed in2011, The Vox Dolomites is a tenacious and voracious creative stomp driven by guitarists/vocalists Ant Walsh and Will Farley, bassist/vocalist Chris O’Donnell, and drummer Simon Dunnington. The band soon grabbed attention, including ours, with the release simply called First Demo 2012. Their introduction was a blaze of punk and ska revelry which instantly made with its raw and inventive presence, an instant and lingering impression. It was a success subsequently emulated by tracks like No Split Ends and the Down For Three / Joan & Frank single of 2013. Live too the band has earned a renowned reputation for their ferocity of sound and drive, playing acclaimed shows not only at home but across the globe where especially in Japan, the band is feverishly devoured. This was no more evident than in The Dirty Work Tour 2012 movie which came out last year. Filmed by Chalkman Video it honestly followed the band on tour out East, revealing everything about the connection between band and their fans. Working hard on their first album through the first half of 2014, The Vox Dolomites has now opened the cage to a stomping release which declares that the band has hit their sweet spot creatively and unleashed their most adventurous and eclectic songs yet.

Choppy riffs make an instant potent tempting as opener Backtrack steps forward, their lure accentuated by the stroke of piano which sparks a flavoursome stroll of shadowed bass and keys wrapped in expressive melodies. A breath is swiftly taken before vocals and songs rouse up the imagination with their spicy enterprise and punk tenacity. It is a riveting mix, raw punk and melodic rock colluding for an infectious proposition equipped with essences of Rancid and NOFX for extra flavour. Making a striking start to the album, the richly pleasing track is surpassed by the outstanding Battle Scars, a feisty roar with thicker sinews and predatory intent compared to its predecessor, cored by the gripping throaty bass of O’Donnell amidst an acidic blaze of guitar. One of the band’s early songs which graced a previous EP, the track has been revamped and given a new antagonistic tenacity so it stomps as a new beast

Both Down For 3 and Alone In Mexico keep the adventure and quality of the album flying, the first of the two a ska rock dance with the crisp beats of Dunnington coring a flirtatious bass enticement and the radiant devilry of keys. Vivacious and exhaustive for feet and emotions, the song is a virulent bounce infused with sixties garage rock seduction and insatiable melodic charm. The second of the pair explores a sterner old school punk attitude and sound, the switching of two vocal attacks an alluring graze to compliment the similarly harsh sounds. The song still develops an imposing catchiness though which is as irresistible as the brooding fury within its depths and narrative.

The brilliant No Split Ends comes next, a pop punk provocateur with ferocity to its jangling riffs and punch to its intimidating rhythms. Again the busy energy and intensity of the track is a breath-taking onslaught but also it is ripe with a seriously addictive lure and temptation which snarls as it seduces. As the previous older song, the track has been revitalised and twisted into an even greater slice of punk alchemy to take top song honours and reinforce reasons why those in the know wax lyrical about the band.

As mentioned there is strong and highly pleasing variety to the album as shown by the melodic and hard rock infused 6AM Rain. Fiery but simultaneously a gentler stroll, the track comes with skilled melodic endeavour and blues rock imagination whilst still showing its punk breeding. Whereas the previous song had a sense of Russian punks Biting Elbows and also [Spunge], this whispers a calm Turbonegro and Bad Religion fusion whilst still sounding distinct to the Brits. Without sparking as certainly its predecessor, the track is an intriguing and pleasing different side to the band’s evolving sound, as is the more ruggedly bruising ALA where again heavier rock riffs and that increasingly delicious carnivorous tone of bass bind attention and appetite. The stirring and muscular brawl of punk ‘n’ roll is an inescapable imposing setting up the passions perfectly for the impossible addictive Horrorshow. Ska punk with a growl to vocals and riffs tempered by the melodic seducing of keys, the track is one of those stomps which once infested by never leave thoughts and passions. Bands like Face To Face and Operation Ivy have helped drive the style of music employed, but whether either has crafted a track as potent and irresistible as this is debateable.

I Fought The Lawyer brings us back to old school punk fury with Clash like attitude within raw rock ‘n’ roll whilst the gnarly Kojak With A Kodak with stabbing riffs and a rumbling bass lining, takes ears into yet another new aspect in the band’s punk ingenuity and exploration. A slow burner compared to other songs on the album, even with its eager gait, the track reveals itself to be a fascinating and richly creative persuasion unveiling a little more to its depth and lure with every listen.

The album goes out with a bang through firstly the mouth-watering aggressive stomp of Break Down The Walls, the song another long-term lust in the making, and lastly the ridiculously contagious and body igniting Losing Hands. Punk does not come any better than these last two songs, well apart from the other tracks on this excellent rampage of an album. It seems we are praising The Vox Dolomites more and more with every release and there is no reason to change with this seriously impressive album. They are a band which deserves the keenest spotlight and hopefully now they have found the trigger to such attention and recognition.

It is approaching six years since Rancid unleashed their last album Let The Dominoes Fall but the wait for another provocation individual to the band is now over with Honor Is All We Know. The California quartet has sculpted a presence truly unique within an intensive and expansive punk scene, and it is that sound and invention which again fuels the new release. A greatly satisfying and undemanding stomp, Honor Is All We Know is quite simply what Rancid does best; creating short stabs of contagious incitements which hit home lyrically and musically, punk and ska entwined in mini provocations.

Upon the fourteen track stomp, the band seems to revisit old times from across their years though they are certainly also mixing it with fresh attitude and energy. It is fair to say that surprises are low and familiarity high, resulting in a typical yet virulently addictive slab of sonic Rancid bred prosperity for ears and emotions. Expect some raising dissatisfaction at its almost ‘safe’ rioting in sound but fans will definitely and greedily lap it up whilst it is easy to see uninitiated pop punk fans making the leap into the bosom of one of modern punk’s founding fathers.

Released via Hellcat Records and produced by Bad Religion’s Brett Gurewitz, Honor Is All We Know instantly has feet and emotions alive with Back Where I Belong, a prize bull of Rancid incitement which roars and sonically squalls through ears. Guitarist/vocalist Tim Armstrong straight away stands tall and distinct in the infectious brawl whilst the bass lure of Matt Freeman pulsates with its similarly additive bait. Everything about the track is prime Rancid, the beats of Branden Steineckert insatiable whilst Lars Frederiksen also flares and sizzles on guitar and vocals, and whilst it feeds expectations there is nothing at play in the song to leave an already established appetite unfulfilled.

The following Raise Your Fist strolls in on a dark bassline whilst guitars layer caustic glazes of temptation. It soon settles into an imposing and unfussy stride, beats and vocals driving the raw punk tone and attitude of the track. Employing a healthy dose of oi to its again recognisable minimalistic landscape, the song also flirts with melodic scenery but it is just added colour to a rugged anthem which is matched by the fiery enticing of Collision Course. There is a feel of the band’s Let’s Go moment in time to the song linked to a Transplants spawned causticity, both uniting for another unavoidable anthemic persuasion which has body, voice, and hunger heavily involved.

Evil’s My Friend leaps in next with ska bent hips and riffs twisting and enticing respectively, keys just as flirty as guitars whilst the bass saunters and seduces with throaty temptation. The song is one inexhaustible bounce, its irrepressible energy and melodic irreverence pop/ska punk a contagious treat recalling the pinnacles of Armstrong’s solo album A Poet’s Life.

Both the title track and A Power Inside pound ears and imagination with raw riffing and pungent rhythms aligned to melodic and cantankerous enterprise. The first is a senses grazing slice of punk ‘n’ roll loaded with bruising antagonism whilst the second is a muscular yet easy going call to arms with infectiousness as insatiable as the plague. It also, around a delicious flaming of sonic endeavour, finds the band at its rawest and almost unruly in vocals and presence, lifting a good song to greater success before the aggravated intimidation of In The Streets snarls over ears with its heavier rock intimidation. The track like many hits the spot without setting a blaze but still provides full enjoyment before the snarly dance of Face Up pushes up the ante again. With a sizzling melodic lilt to the guitar’s enterprise and thumping predation to rhythms courted by another binding bassline, the song has that familiar Rancid devilment and prowl which is maybe predictable but inescapable.

The raging hostility of Already Dead provides the next barracking, its spaghetti western climate over a ferocious canvas of antagonistic vocals and riled riffing speared by a devil spawned heavy bassline. The song is a riveting croon which does spread into new terrain for the band in some ways before the rhythm slinging, riff growling stomp of Diabolical grabs its moment in the spotlight. The track enslaves within seconds, never relinquishing its forceful devilry until the pop and sixties garage rock brew of Malfunction leaps upon the passions, it an irresistible hop of sound and energy with the flaming hues of keys as potent as the duelling vocals and cheek slapping beats of Steineckert.

The angry, busy barracking of Now We’re Through With You kicks up a bruising provocation next, its presence a senses tramping bitch slap of a treat whilst Everybody’s Sufferin’ slips into ska flirtation for a glorious two-tone shuffle which instantly makes subservient slaves of feet and emotions. Both tracks leave ears and appetite full but are surpassed by the closing triumph of Grave Digger, a quarrelling slice of street punk which has no excess to its lean confrontation but offers a fat anthemic lure which lingers as it brings the album to a mighty end.

It is hard to make claims that Honor Is All We Know is bringing anything truly new from the band and difficult to be convinced that it can convert those aware but not already enamoured with the band into their fold, but for a rigorously enjoyable assault of Rancid punk rock, it is another richly appetising scrap.

Honor Is All We Know is available from October 27th via Hellcat/Epitaph Records.

Ever wondered what the warped and twisted offspring of Madness, Oingo Boingo, and Mr Strange would be like? Then welcome to the dark ska-deville world of Spooky Jefferson’s Ideal Lunchbox.

Entwining the revelry of ska with the insatiable temptation of psychobilly and dark hearted vaudeville theatrics, Spooky Jefferson’s Ideal Lunchbox is an irresistible incitement to question your sanity to. Hailing from Tyne and Wear, the septet is a full on drama and irrepressible mischief which through their new five track EP takes ears, imagination, and passions on a non-stop mystery tour. House of Dolls is a thrilling proposition which makes you wonder why ska and horror has not prolifically mixed before. Better late than never though, and if you are enjoy walking with the dead, aliens, and the kind of fantasies only the mind of Tim Burton can conjure, all to the swinging sounds of devilish invention then this is a band for you.

The opening of Spooky’s Lunchbox sets the Graveyard Calling released EP, a UK-based cassette/digital label, off in fine riveting style. A lone piano offers its haunted expression initially to tease thoughts and nudge the imagination. It has an air of a dusty run down theatre holding a steampunk breath of old and modern. The instrumental soon has the senses and thoughts embraced in its noir bred shadows, the keys continuing to evocatively colour the scenery under melancholic sax lighting. It is a mesmeric enchantment which leads straight into the celestial charm of Aliens. It is a coaxing soon immersed in a ska driven stomp, the steady rhythms of drummer Raggz Chandan hand in hand with the dark lures of bass cast by Rob Carrol enslaving an already firm appetite for ska. It is barely seconds before feet are jerking in unison with the jagged riffs of Allen Humes whilst the delicious expressive keys of Davie King incites ears and the flaming sax lures of tenor sax player Dean Wiseman and Ben Creaser on alto sax take care of the imagination once again. It is a gloriously striding song which if you ask us is basking in the attention of its alien abductors and their invasive investigations. The vocals of Kieran Jobling have a rawer less polished feel, his expression flirting and enhancing the drama of the scenario and song perfectly. At times the song apart from those earlier references has an essence of Mojo Fury about it and also for unsure reasons eighties punk folk band The Dancing Did. As eccentric as it is virulently infectious, the track is a riveting adventure which is as impressive crooning as it is running with nostrils flaring.

The following Do You Know? is another breath-taking instrumental dance, this complete with manic chuckles and demented urgency. Like Night Boat To Cairo off course and going through the tunnel of a Ghost Train, the track is inescapable bait for body and soul and it is a sad parting as it drifts into Freak Show. The track soon creates its own unique and seductive adventure though, to hold all attention and thoughts. Adding a carny like atmosphere with Jobling like a side show barker, the band writhes suggestively with its inventive bedlam of lyrical intrigue and musical unpredictability. Like the final blast of devilry for lost souls, the song’s finale is a crescendo of wanton melodies and lustful rhythmic lunacy which could be a distant cousin to those found in Cardiacs.

The title track brings the release to a close, a sonically sepia piece of drama linking it with its predecessor before the song dances into ears on its melodic toes led by another delicious tease of piano. Veering to the more folk side of sound, think Tankus The Henge, the track strides with an air of knowing that it has the listener in the cups of its hands. Melodies sway and caress whilst rhythms swing with a robust tenacity, and as for the brass they croon with a slightly melancholic breath to complete the soulful yet haunted landscape of the song.

With a healthy diversity and compelling drama across its tracks, House of Dolls is pure pleasure, especially if a rich dose of ska and theatrical madness is a tasty brew for you. Spooky Jefferson’s Ideal Lunchbox is not exactly creating a new style of music but they are certainly crafting a template as yet undiscovered.

This week sees the UK release of All People from Michael Franti and Spearhead, an album of feel good hymns which brings fun filled light and adventure to any day. Consisting of sixteen tracks which flirt with and incite feet through to the imagination to romp with refreshed energy and appetite against any ills clouding personal climates, the album is a mouthwatering sunspot of diverse pop flavoured enterprise. It is pop though bred from the richest essences of everything from rock to funk, ska to Hip-Hop, soul to folk with plenty more in between. It results in a release which brings a persuasive familiarity to new adventures, an encounter which ultimately shines like a beacon in the shadows of life.

All People is the tenth album from Michael Franti, a very different proposition from where the San Francisco based singer/songwriter/guitarist began. Starting his journey with post-punk band The Beatings and then acclaimed hip-hop group Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy, Franti has always fought and supported the ‘underdog’, something which has never lessened as his music found its course into a more varied and pop accessible destination. It is just as full and vocal on All People, songs looking at an array of issues and flaws, worldly and intimate, but all realised in anthems for summer days and sultry nights. The follow-up to the acclaimed 2010 release The Sound of Sunshine, the new album, which sees Franti collaborating with the likes of Adrian Newman, Sam Hollander, and Canadian production team The Matrix on many of the songs, may have taken its time hitting British shores after its US release last year but it is hard to imagine it not taking over the impending summer’s soundtrack over coming weeks.

The title track starts off the party with a gentle seduction initially; acoustic guitar and the instantly evocative keys of Raliegh Neal caressing ears before Franti and guest vocalist Gina René add their tender touches to the opening coaxing. Soon pulsating heavy beats from Manas Itiene join the enticement but it is when a switch is flicked and the piano slaps its keys down on the senses that the song takes off in climatic style. Drama suddenly soaks the dancefloor incitement; the throaty bass of Carl Young bringing richer textures to the excited stomp as both vocalists again court thoughts and emotions with ease. It is the first song and first anthem of the release, setting things off explosively.

Things hit a new pinnacle right away with the following Earth From Outer Space with features K’Naan. Again as the first song, its entrance is a soothing beckoning rather than anything gripping but once the song slips into its reggae bred stroll, melodies and vocals streaming warmth and aural smiles from their notes and syllables, slavery of feet and emotions is a done deal. Lyrical repetition and easy going hooks ensure as in most tracks you can join in within one chorus and a single stride of a verse, the sheer revelry dancing resourcefully with ears. The great vocal mix and seductive colour of the song leaves that feel good factor in full flow which new single I’m Alive (Life Sounds Like) embraces ravenously. The guitars of Franti and Dave Shul from the first breath are lending a creative warmth and mischief to the imagination, contagion subsequently pouring from theirs and every rhythmic and vocal design. Again the catchy heart of the pop rock track is irresistible, body and soul joining its swagger and a festivity so potent that even the downright miserable will be swept up in its scintillating arms smiling broadly outside and within.

Things take a breather with next up Long Ride Home, the song a gliding evocative croon of expressive keys and moody basslines over which Franti lays his engagingly textured tones. There is still a pulse beat to the tempered balladry of the song which eggs feet and emotions in to a keen stride of movement and reflection respectively. It is constantly brewing up a passion across its offering which ends in a potent crescendo before making way for the folkish charm of Life Is Better With You, a song with a definite Simon & Garfunkel spicing, and the pungently emotive hip-hop seeded 11.59, a track inspired by the Trayvon Martin shooting. Though the three songs cannot match the fire of their predecessors, each brings an invigorating variation and impacting enthrallment to the album.

That diversity continues with the darker light of Closer To You, a track finding its origins seemingly in the post punk formative years of Franti, its opening especially reminiscent of the chilled climates of a New Order or early Cure before expanding into an electro sculpted slice of indie rock, and the brilliant Gangsta Girl. Flaming with a delicious ska/pop stomp and sultry swerve of melodic spicery, the track is infectiousness uncaged. Its feisty canter is just like The Beat in their heyday, a broadly grinning flirtation which has feet and passions swerving like a puppeteer.

Through the again uniquely shaped pleasures of emotive rocker Show Me A Sign, the richer ska seeded I Don’t Wanna Go, and the funk infested Do It For The Love, the album continues to diversely excite and thrill whilst musically it continues to hit the sweet spot in skill and invention. The trio of songs also slip below the irrepressible temptation of the songs right before them, though each leaves body and heart alight and greedy for more which the warm and breezy Let It Go featuring Ethan Tucker, and the Lennon-esque On And On feed fully with their own unique characters in the suasion of the album.

The evocative pop enchantment of Wherever You Are followed by the emotionally fuelled ballad Say Goodbye, lead the album to its enjoyable conclusion though they do lack the kick of the rest of the album. Nevertheless they do leave a lingering breath and tempting to dive back into the album once an acoustic mix of Life Is Better With You finally brings things to a fine close.

All People is an excellent proposition to inflame the day and heart, rock pop in its most potent and impressively flavoursome forms. It is fair to say that Michael Franti and Spearhead with All People has just ignited the British summer.

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